As No Other Can
by A.J. Keller
Summary: This is the story of how Alex Leeds(OC) - a 4th year Slytherin with reserve, dignity, and talent to spare - met up with a girl so quirky his mind couldn't handle it. We all know her... Luna Lovegood.
1. A Chance Encounter

**-Foreword-**

Luna Lovegood: Ravenclaw - Energetic. Strange. Fascinated with the unexplained and the improbable. Able to see the world no other does.

Alex Leeds: Slytherin - Talented. Reserved. A fourth-year master of non-verbal spells and an innovator in the creation of new ones. Able to see Luna as no other can.

The concept of intra-house relationships is nothing new to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy – unless, of course, you are a Slytherin. The pure-blood mania, the intense rivalry in quidditch – these are but a few of the reasons the proud Slytherins choose to disassociate with the other houses, regarding themselves as superior and devoid of the gallant buffoonery of Gryffindor, the naivete and humility of Hufflepuff, and the bookwormish lust for merely knowledge that is Ravenclaw.

However, Alex is not interested in the opinions of his fellow housemates. He cares only for his own opinion. And until recently, he didn't care to waste time with love or romance either...

**-Disclaimer BS-**

Though Alex is an original character, I sure as shit don't own the rights to any names or titles of any of the other characters, places, or otherwise titled subject matter.

**As No Other Can**

**Chapter 1: A Chance Encounter**

_Infernius Maxima!_

The word, in all it's majesty and complexity, crossed Alex's mind in an instant. A jet of white-hot flame spouted from the tip of his wand, filling the vacant classroom with a raging heat. Only directing the jet into a dark mass of energy – the result of the _Voidio _charm he had cast at the far end of the room – kept it from burning through the walls of Hogwarts and out into the grounds. Even so, the jet was present in the room for long enough to raise the temperature to that of a sweltering desert at high noon.

_Arcticus!_

Again the word scarcely crossed his mind before a large chunk of ice rocketed from the tip of his wand, following the path of it's fiery predecessor into the void and leaving an icy wind swirling about the room. The temperature dropped within seconds to just above freezing, catching the breath in his throat. He had underestimated the power of his non-verbal spells a few times before, and knew from experience that, had he added a _Maxima _to the end of that _Artcicus_, the temperature would drop in the room so fast that the stone walls would crack; sometimes even a few of the stones would shatter. He would then have about ten seconds to exit the room before hypothermic shock set in.

_Radiata Multiplios. _

Seven balls of warm light formed at the tip of his wand one by one and scattered to the edges of the room. The temperature began to slowly rise. Alex twirled his wand skillfully between his fingers and deftly slid it back into the bracer he always wore on his left arm.

"Hello," spoke a soft voice from the doorway. "It's a bit chilly in here."

Alex spun, drawing his wand as he did so and leveling it at the speaker's face.

_Protego Impervious!_

_Shroudious Maximus!_

"That was rather neat," she observed cheerfully, as a powerful shield formed around Alex and clouds of black smoke filled the room. "I can't see you anymore. Are you invisible?"

Alex paused for a few seconds, circling slowly. He already knew there was no threat from this girl. She was rather thin, and wore a necklace of butterbeer caps beneath her tangled golden locks. She had a peaceful, relaxed expression on her face, her eyes betraying a moderate dose of curiosity.

"That's quite a lot of black smoke," she said, shuffling into the room gazing raptly up at it. "Did you use out-of-date instant darkness powder?"

Alex began to feel the extended shield charm wearing on him. High level magic such as this wore down a wizard's Will much faster than the simpler _Protego _charm. Fortunately, any wizard skilled enough to actually _cast_ the spell, let alone know that it existed, would also most likely be finishing up any duels he may have need to use it in very quickly.

_Disseminate,_ he thought, and the shield faded away. The smoke began to clear.

"There you are," the girl said pleasantly. Alex frowned, tucking his wand away again. She was clearly a Ravenclaw, and Ravenclaws DID NOT make friendly conversation with Slytherins. This was an unspoken rule. Ravenclaws and Slytherins had heated debates over ancient magical texts, often involving the 'personal gain vs. good-of-all-wizardkind' argument. With Gryfindor it was usually a trading of insults or jinxes, and with Hufflepuff... well, Hufflepuffs were generally ignored by Slytherins, and seemed to be happy with it that way.

"What do you want?" Alex asked coldly.

This did nothing to diminish the girls pleasant smile. "I was following a cloud of poppyjetters down the hall, and they came right in here."

Alex was speechless for a split second. An excuse would have been welcome, or a mumbled apology, even a _sane_ legitimate answer, but... poppyjetters?

It was his personal preference to maintain decorum at all times, choosing not to join in any petty fights or trade insults unless the sophistication of the contest was elevated to the level of a test of magical prowess or faculty of wit. This rarely happened. In fact, it had only happened once, with a redheaded bespectacled sixth-year Gryffindor who had seemed to have been inspired to reach beyond his ordinary wellspring of dry wit simply in order to preserve his pride. Alex had grown tired of the contest and had been ready to concede 'Surrender as caused by necessity of survival in the matter of the traumatic effects to the mind as a result of chronic boredom' when the Gryffindor had stormed off, mumbling to himself about arrogance of youth and seeing the headmaster about it.

As for this situation, Alex would later recall the moment to himself as a willful act, telling himself rather unsuccessfully that his decision to forgo decorum was intentional. He also 'decided' to forgo using his usual scathing wit, the likes of which had been the cause of many outbursts and a healthy amount of tears amongst many students, regardless of house, year, gender, or magical affinities.

But this explanation he had to admit was simply not true. The truth was he was still slightly dumbfounded that the term 'poppyjetters' actually existed, let alone that someone had just uttered it with a straight face and an honest heart. In short, Alex had a simple, instinctual reaction, and spoke the first words that came to has mind, making them the most the most unsophisticated he had ever uttered whilst a member of the Hogwarts student body.

"What in the _HELL_ are poppyjetters?"

Her answer was immediate and flowed naturally, and for a second Alex found himself envying the girl for her simplicity and innocence. "Oh, they're tiny flower nymphs usually found near poppies, but they also inhabit a few species of rosebush. They're attracted to strong magical energies, you know, and will leave their home for up to a day and a half to seek them out."

"Oh?" Alex replied, feeling a slight bristle of pride. Strong magical energies? He quickly shook it off. There were no such things as poppyjetters, but at the same time... unless this girl was far more cunning and devious than a student was allowed to be in order to actually _get into_ Ravenclaw, she was being completely honest with him, despite her delusions of poppyjetters.

"These came inside from one of the greenhouses, the one where Professor Sprout is having us study a few non-magical plants. I quite expected them to head for Professor Dumbledore's office. That's where they usually go."

"I see. I've never heard of poppyjetters."

"They're fairly rare. My papa and I researched them over the summer, and this month's _Quibbler_ has quite an article on them. I helped him write it."

Recognition hit Alex like a load of bricks, and he immediately wondered why he had not recognized her before. Hogwarts was certainly no stranger to eccentrics (it's own current headmaster and a few members of staff being among them), but there were few eccentrics who could top the level of notoriety held by this girl here. He even knew of her nickname. "Looney" Lovegood.

"Pardon me for asking," Alex said, his decorum back in hand and the acid wit on standby, "but isn't the Quibbler generally considered a collection of wild stories and fantastic tales of myths, legends, and outright rubbish?"

"Yes," the girl replied. "Many people say that, but many people also consider _The Daily Prophet_ to be a source of accurate information."

Alex paused for a fraction of a second. "It is."

"Yes, sometimes," the girl agreed cheerfully. "But there are many stories published that stretch or even fabricate the truth. One of the things we try to do with the _Quibbler_ is to provide the real story in those circumstances."

"I see." Alex said, his interest in the topic having run out.

"I hope so," the girl smiled, and she closed her eyes and pressed her wand to her temple. "I believe they're still in here."

For a second Alex was tempted to begin his reply with: "Well, it's been a _thrilling_ chat..." But instead he asked: "Are you enhancing your perception of magical energy by channeling a constant flow of it through your own mind?" He was ready to be impressed if this was indeed what she was doing.

"I don't think so," the girl replied. "I usually press my wand to my head in order to concentrate. A bit of a habit, really. They're a bit tricky to sense, Poppyjetters, but it's a common belief that they appear to the mind as a group of rainbow colored speckles of light when you close your eyes. Truth be told though, I'm starting to get a headache from all of it."

_And there goes your credibility,_ Alex thought to himself, shaking his head and dismissing her back down to the level of 'kook'.

"Oh, that's _fascinating_," he replied sarcastically. "Now if you don't mind, I was practicing."

"Oh, I don't mind at all," the girl replied. "Go ahead. You must be attempting some rather advanced magic to attract all of those poppyjetters."

"I'm not _attempting_ anything," Alex answered, scowling slightly. "I am _practicing_ a few non-verbal spells I have researched and discovered. I would actually prefer to pr-"

"That sounds like fun," the girl cut in, sounding pleasant as ever. She returned her wand to the inside of her robes and took a seat, folding her hands in her lap and waiting patiently.

Alex was about to protest her presence, up to the scathing wit level of intensity should the need arise, but something stopped him. The thought of anyone watching him practice seemed irritating as hell, even were it one of the few people in his own house who he tolerated nearly to the point of acquaintance. But somehow, this girl, this simple, pleasant, slightly air-headed girl caused him no such displeasure. On the contrary, he felt intrigued by her, as if every word she was bound to say would be so utterly ridiculous that no human had ever even dreamed of _thinking _about saying it before.

"Well," Alex answered, and found himself at a loss for words again. He was far from admitting that he actually enjoyed her company, having exchanged no more than five minutes worth of discourse with her, but at the same time he felt slightly apprehensive about letting her stay. "I suppose if you wish to stay and watch... but be mindful; it can get a bit... rough."

"I don't mind," the girl smiled.

_Of course you don't_, Alex thought to himself, and resumed his practice routine.

_Infernius Maxima!_

A small spurt of fire burst from his wand, filling the air with a sour smelling smoke. Alex coughed.

"Ooh, that was neat!" The girl said, smiling at Alex.

Alex was shocked. He hadn't had trouble casting that particular spell since he had first attempted it, and even then it had been much better than whatever the hell had just happened.

He attempted it again, this time producing a slightly bigger burst of flame and an equally large cloud of smoke.

The Girl coughed a bit, and Alex mentally berated himself. What thew hell was going on? His focus was not where it should be, and a cold wave of dread washed over him as he realized that he should be able to put any and all distractions aside, or one day he cast this spell in a duel and find himself either dead or ridiculed for it,

It was the same with his _Arcticus_ spell_, _the result being a spray of small, half melted chunks of ice that fell on the floor with a clatter.

"That was interesting," the girl said. "I could use that for when the ice melts in my pumpkin juice."

_I'll melt your damn pumpkin juice,_ Alex thought savagely, and was surprised at how base and juvenile a thought that was. Something was definitely wrong with him.

"Do you mind keeping quiet!" he snapped, knowing this wouldn't solve anything. Even if she was quiet, even if she was 600 miles away, the fact that she had been here and said things like _Poppyjetters _and _that was fun _insured that we would perform equally as bad.

"No, I don't mind," Luna replied cheerfully. "But I think I'll be going now, the Poppyjetters aren't in this room anymore."

Had that statement come from anyone else (the absurdity of poppyjetters notwithstanding) Alex would have made sure they spent the rest of their lives in St. Mungo's forgetting daily which part of the body underpants went on. He was a master of detecting veiled insults, by virtue of being a masterful purveyor of them himself, and from anyone else, this statement would have been recognized as one of the finest he had ever heard.

But from this girl, he believed that no such insult was possible. It just didn't seem to fit with her character. She was too easy-going and friendly (most would say scatterbrained) to wish to offend someone as an act of malice. And yet, how to explain the poppyjetters? Alex was convinced that no such thing existed, yet how had she located him? If they were real, and did indeed follow his powerful magical energy, then it made sense that they should have left when his focus began to wane.

This train of thought began to give Alex a headache. He was already fairly worn out from practicing, even more considering he had cast and held a _Protego Maximus_ charm, and he thought it best to be done for the day.

"I'll be going as well," he said, and he turned and pointed his wand at the void and thought _Disseminate_.

The void vanished without a hitch, and Alex was glad, again chiding himself for having doubts about whether it would or not. A proper wizard didn't hope for the best and 'roll-the-dice' with his spell work, he cast spells and they did exactly what he wanted them to. Perhaps he was not as proficient as he thought.

A thought struck him that he should like to know more about this "Looney" Lovegood. She was not as entirely nutty as the rumors held, although the concept of Poppyjetters was definitely pushing the line. But before he could do or say anything she had drifted out of the room.

Alex made to follow her, but his mood snapped all of a sudden, and he turned and thought _Infernius Maximus!_ directing his wand at the floor. This time, his frustration powered the charm, and he was blasted off of his feet to crash into the wall, rewarded with a smoking set of robes, a few singed hairs, a sore backside, and a boiling crater of molten stone in the center of the classroom.


	2. A Futile Distraction

**Chapter 2: A Futile Distraction**

Alex sat in the Slytherin common room, gazing up at the thick glass as the last of the sunlight faded, turning the tint of the green light that drifted down through the lake progressively darker. He normally spent these final hours of a day either studying or searching his mind for possible new spells to attempt the next time he found a free moment to visit an empty classroom.

Currently, his mind was wandering back and forth between random thoughts and the strange girl who had just happened to follow a bunch of non-existent creatures to where he was practicing. His thoughts would then turn to how spectacularly and unintentionally she had turned his whole world upside down.

He thought first of the deformed classroom floor, and how, were he a member of Gryffindor House or perhaps any other house, he might overhear from a few of his housemates about it. Slytherins were generally quite a bit more secretive about their affairs, especially ones involving private trips to abandoned classrooms. Most students knew the details of the abandoned classrooms as well or better than the ones that were in use, sneaking off for a little privacy in the name of 'extra-curricular' activities, be it an experiment, an un-sanctioned club or group, or perhaps for a 'friendly rendezvous'. Alex himself had had a few of these 'friendly rendezvous'', but he had found the experience to be rather dull, seeing as how most of the girls he met up with were far more infatuated with him than he was with them. His reasons for partaking in the activity were simply out of spite, to bring a modicum of misery to the girls and to the boys who desired them. It was just one of the few small services he offered, retribution for the unfounded arrogance that seemed to be requisite for most members of Slytherin house. Greatness was earned, not inherited. He had endured countless conversations that included terms such as 'when my father hears about this' or 'I'm a (insert pure-blood family name here), how dare you say that to me!'.

Alex chuckled to himself. He felt that a little extracurricular activity might just help to take his mind off of things, and the repercussions in the following weeks would be well worth it.

There was one boy in particular whom Alex positively loathed, a certain Draco Malfoy. As far as Alex was concerned, if Malfoy didn't invent the term 'my father will hear about this', it was because his own father had beat him to it. Alex knew that Malfoy was unofficially attached to a girl by the name of Pansy Parkinson, a raven haired snob who surely enjoyed the status of being the closest thing to a girlfriend Malfoy had _far _more than she actually enjoyed Malfoy.

_His heart will be untouched, but his pride will need a few weeks,_ Alex thought to himself, as he rose gracefully from his chair and approached a table full of girls who appeared to be studying. Their conversation, as near as he could tell in the seven seconds he heard of it, revolved around discussing how bad certain other student's hair and makeup looked that day.

"Excuse me, Miss Parkinson, may I see you for a moment?" Alex asked.

The conversation stopped dead, and all of the girls looked up at him. A lesser man would have flinched at that stage, considering what he was about to do, but Alex had done this many times before, and knew how to read the mood before it could even be set.

Pansy looked back at her friends for a second, then closed her book and rose from her chair, brushing hair out of her eyes as she did so. The two crossed to a darker corner of the room, and Alex noted with satisfaction the whispers he heard from behind him.

"What is-" Pansy began, Alex but placed a finger to her lips and ssshed her gently. He then leaned in a placed a delicate but lingering kiss on her lips, during which small gasps could be heard from the table across the room.

Pansy jumped at the touch of his lips, but did not pull away. Alex let the kiss last just until Pansy began to relax, and then he ended it.

"Would you like to take a walk with me this evening?" He breathed in her ear, and thought he could almost hear her heart skip a beat.

"Um, yes... I... let me pack my bo-"

But Alex's wand was already out, and Pansy's book bag was already floating towards her, neatly packed. She caught it gently, and turned surprised eyes on him.

"How did you-" she began, but Alex shushed her again, and gave her a sly smile. The door to the common room opened, and the two slipped out.

The ability to appear aloof and concerned with higher matters than the petty goings on at Hogwarts was one of the more attractive qualities to have in the eyes of just about every female member of Slytherin house. Of course, this was only if you possessed the prerequisite attributes of family prominence, pure-blood status (or at least a half-blood family tree where the half part was many generations ago), money, and power. Magical prowess and physical attractiveness were secondary. But, if one were to take all of the above in generous measures and add a little bit of mystery, you had a recipe for disaster.

Enter Alex, the young man with the highest grades in his year, only child of one of the wealthiest families, a solid and proven pure-blood status hailing from a remote and distant part of England, and the looks to seal the deal. He had enough charm and charisma to stop a charging troll in it's tracks, if he hadn't already decided to burn it to ash, freeze it to death, or employ any number of other options for rendering it no longer a threat, and all without uttering a single word. And what he did to Pansy Parkinson that night was both bliss and anguish for her.

Alex kissed her, caressed her, and ran his hands through her hair, breathing in her scent. He held her close, whispered to her, and maintained a meaningless conversation all the while, lacing it with a few well timed derisive remarks about Malfoy whenever the conversation allowed. And he did each of these things _just _enough to keep her wanting more. That was his way, and it _worked_. The next time he wanted to shake things up a bit, Pansy would be there, and ready, wanting more of what no one else had the proficiency to offer.

Deep down, Alex knew he was a total asshole for this, but who in Slytherin house _wasn't_ a total asshole? If the other houses knew what he was doing, they might even regard him an official anti-hero in the war against Slytherin assholery.

The nights activity had an effect on Alex as well, or perhaps ineffective would be the best way to describe it. It did absolutely nothing to take his mind of the strange girl, to which he only knew her derogatory nickname, "Looney". He seemed to recall that this was based on her name and not simply the fact that it shared a first letter with her last name, but what was it? Lucy? Laura? The fact that he didn't know cause him more anguish than it should have, and he didn't have much luck sleeping that night.

The gossip over the next few days was enough to keep Alex entertained. He was remarkably good at picking up meaning from the tone of a few words overheard passing in the hall, and read more from anyone's quick glance at him than they would have liked. It took a full two days before Malfoy began glare daggers at him, and for this, Alex decided to take his plan a step further.

There was an evening Quidditch match on the third day after the Pansy incident, Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw. This pairing usually proved to elicit rather uninspired cheers from the crowd; everyone knew that the Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match was the one to watch, and any match not involving one of these teams lacked the off-the-pitch rivalry that made the on-the-pitch action so much more personal.

Alex rose from his seat in the stands and approached Malfoy, where he was sitting with his two thuggish friends, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. These two had always annoyed Alex just by simply _existing_. The only quality they possessed that had allowed them to be sorted into Slytherin, besides possible pure-blood status, was a malicious, vindictive spirit. They were too stupid to be allowed into Ravenclaw, too dependent on Malfoy for their sense of purpose to enter Gryffindor, and too lazy and selfish to be admitted into Hufflepuff. What it boiled down to, Alex reminded himself for the umpteenth time, was that Slytherin house, if viewed with these two thugs as the only subject matter, was little more than a proper fit for stupid, aimless, lazy, unambitious bullies.

"Malfoy," Alex said simply, and was rewarded with a look of anger. "May I speak to you for a moment?"

"I'm watching the game," Malfoy growled back. "Piss off."

"I would think that you'd be as bored of this match as I am," Alex replied dryly. "Or are you studying tactics?"

Malfoy turned in anger. "Of course I'm bored, and I don't need to learn anything from these two-bit posers!"

"Then let us talk," Alex said, and he began to descend the tower steps.

"Wait here," Alex heard Malfoy tell Crabbe and Goyle. The thump of his highly polished boots was soon heard on the steps.

"_Petrificus Totallus!"_ Malfoy exclaimed, and without thinking, Alex found his wand in hand and the _protego _charm cast and deflecting the spell. However, he remained still and affected a look of surprise.

"You filthy little _bastard_," Malfoy snarled, a wicked smile twisting his face. "Do you really think I'd be so stupid as to 'have a talk' with you? You were planning to jinx me, weren't you? Your wand was already in your hand."

Malfoy kicked Alex's arm, and his wand clattered to the ground. Grabbing him by the face, Malfoy shoved Alex's head back up against the wall and leaned in, inches from Alex's face. "I know about you and Pansy, and though I really don't give a _damn_ about her, I don't appreciate you thinking you can just do whatever you like."

Malfoy pointed his wand directly at Alex's right eye. "So listen to this... If you _ever_ speak to her again, if you so much as ask to borrow her _quill_, I will curse you so hard that your _great_-_grandfather_ will feel it!"

Malfoy removed his hand, stepped back a pace, and smirked. "Your Grand-dad will be feeling this, at least." He then launched forward, aiming a solid punch squarely at Alex's face. Alex moved his head at the last second and Malfoy's knuckles crashed into the wall, eliciting a cry of pain from the blond haired boy. Alex was smirking now, enjoy the confusion and terror on Malfoy's face.

"Not _my_ Grand-dad," Alex replied, and he quickly slid in close to Malfoy, placing one leg behind the other boy's and catching him around the throat with his right hand. Malfoy went down hard, flipped right over Alex's leg and onto his shoulder. Alex fell with him, making sure Malfoy made good solid contact with the floor. The boy coughed as Alex's palm bit into his throat, squeezing.

"Now," Alex tightened his grip as Malfoy thrashed around, finally coming to a stop as he realized that he was completely at Alex's mercy. "we will have a talk."

Malfoy was staring at him wide eyed, but still managed snarl and squeeze a few profanities around Alex's iron grip. Alex spoke with calm and decorum as if he were addressing a world summit.

"It was not I who invited Miss Parkinson out for a walk, it was she who invited me. I simply wished to ask her if she had any interest whatsoever in Tyler Murchison, as I know that he is too spineless to ask her himself and I'm tired of seeing him stare dopily at her. A burst bubble would do that boy a world of good. It was then that she kissed me and asked me outside. I asked if she was through with you, to which she replied, 'We were never together. He just likes to think we are'. I then agreed and went on a walk with her, but nothing more happened than she holding my hand and making stupid, girlish conversation. Now, I don't know _what_ rumors you may have heard, but if they are anything like the ones I've overheard, the situation has been excessively exaggerated. And given your reaction to it all, I take it there _is_ some attachment involved."

Malfoy had quit swearing by this point, and Alex allowed him to sit up. 'Why should I believe you?" he asked, rubbing his throat.

Alex laughed. "It makes little difference to me, but honestly, what are you going to do about it?"

And with that, Alex rose, retrieved his wand, and ventured back towards the castle. He was sure that this well executed act of playing two people at the same time would cause enough stir to take his mind off of "Looney" Lovegood, but deep down, he highly doubted it. His next move was clear, and it seemed like one of the most difficult tasks he would ever face...


End file.
